Letter from the Editor, 2010

Friends of Baker Reunion family members are often shocked to learn that, in fact, this is not Henry Baker, but only one branch of his family. 

TEXAS FAMILY HAD NO

             IDEA WHAT THEY STARTED

Experts See Exponential Growth for Family

—Over Next Seventy Five Years

By J. HULETT JONES 

  For some reason I signed up for this job (on a whim, frankly) after church service on Sunday under the pavilion. If I recall, there was an audible gasp. I had no idea what I was getting into. I like to write every now and then, and I like to do graphic stuff, so I figured... I can do this. Now I could berate myself for this, and you could, too. Berate me, that is... that's what family is for, after all. But I have come to realize that my accepting this on a whim is what we all do. If you think about it, it's what family is about. Yes, we plan for things, but when you are at the Reunion next month, look around. There are a lot of living, breathing, loving family members whose parents had no idea what they were getting in to. They enjoyed creating all of us, to be sure, and thought, "I can do this," ...and here we are. If some of our ancestors did know what they'd be getting in to, let's face it, a lot of us would not be here. It is a gamble on ourselves. We want to do it. We think we can do it. Then we go for it. Around 1934, our ancestors thought they should have a place to get together for a family reunion. My guess is they knew other families that did such a thing, and thought, we should do this. We all have those friends now. They get shirts made, and their families gather at the local park, the amusement park, church, union hall, take your pick… and we think to ourselves… AMATEURS. 

What our ancestors started, well, likely they had no idea what it would grow into. The Reunion grounds are now facing a drought similar to, potentially even worse, than the dustbowl our family had just gone through when they started this gathering. How many of us have loved ones or friends that ask, “why do you keep plates and glasses stored upside down in your cabinets?” The answer: 

DUST BOWL. It is in our genes. Also in our genes:being confronted with dust bowl conditions and thinking, “we can do it.”

So I think I took up the reins on this job for two reasons. 

FIRST: Three years or so ago at about 3AM after poker, Walter and I were talking about our family. Walter mentioned his folks, and their folks, and my Dad and Granddad (J.D.), and all they had put into this family, this Reunion. It wasn’t a guilt trip discussion. It was a discussion about faith and belief — in ourselves and our family.  That discussion resonated with me. If anyone tells you no good can happen in the wee hours between Saturday night and Sunday morning, you just have them talk to Walter. 

SECOND: Again, I blame Walter. Uncle Walter. Except… he’s not my Uncle. I didn’t realize that until I was about 12. And then there’s Aunt Clyde. Except… she’s not my Aunt. Now I know my immediate family, but those of us in the third generation (or more) of this gathering have more names to remember and are further out on the branches of this tree. We have a great history of names, and those names repeat and we call each other in familial terms that aren’t always accurate.  My Grandfather used his engineering lettering skills to put up a family wheel on the grounds that showed all the branches of the family and where everyone came from. You could trace back how far you were related. Or if you chose, how you weren’t related. My mother has been shepherding the family directory for years. I will admit: when I go to the Reunion, I too often get that feeling that Robert Earl Keen sings about… “I can’t remember how I’m kin to them.” While that has its merits: “everyone is family”, it also means I am missing out on a lot of the richness.

This has been a huge learning curve for me. So read all of this with that in mind. Know that I had no IDEA what I started or got myself into. And help me out. After all, we are kin.

You just might have to remind me how we’re kin.